


Of Like Minds

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brothers, Developing Relationship, M/M, Post-Robert's Rebellion, Pre-A Game of Thrones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-09 20:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7815259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the realization sets in that Robert will not live up to his potential as king, Ned seeks another member of the small council to help him in the running of the realm - Stannis Baratheon - and finds more in Robert's brother than mere camaraderie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Like Minds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Courtthesatchmo96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courtthesatchmo96/gifts).



> I hope you like this! I went with an AU diverging during Robert's Rebellion in that Brandon Stark survived, which freed up Ned to remain in King's Landing to interact with Stannis. I've always thought these two could make an interesting pair because they have so much in common if not for Robert, and I think the realm (and Robert) could have benefited if they'd been able to work together. Thanks to EmynIthilien for betaing!

By the time Stannis at last reached the Red Keep, he was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. It had been a long journey by sea from Dragonstone, and all he wanted was to make his report to Robert and go home to Storm's End. His mind was fixed on the prospects of a goblet of water and a dark, quiet place to rest as he crossed the courtyard for the sanctuary of Maegor's Holdfast. 

"Lord Stannis?"

Stannis stopped, squinting in the bright sunlight, and pushed his sweaty hair off his forehead. A warm spring, if that was what it was, had sneaked up on them. He stared, unrecognizing, at the man who stood before him. Who was he to know Stannis' face when Stannis did not know his?

The stranger bowed his head slightly. "I am Eddard Stark. Your brother Robert and I were wards of Jon Arryn together at the Eyrie." He said all this as though Stannis had not received letter after letter talking incessantly of Ned Stark, the brother Robert would have preferred over Stannis. He did not know why he hadn't recognized him. He was clearly the brother of Brandon, whom Stannis had met when he'd lifted the Siege at Storm's End. 

They had not had a long acquaintanceship, as Brandon had hurried off in pursuit of his kidnapped sister, but he'd seemed a good man. The story of how he'd escaped the mad king's dungeon, only for his lord father to be executed in his place had reached Storm's End before the siege engines had rolled in, and Stannis well remembered the long, solemn face, which he now saw copied before him in the brother.

But Eddard was Robert's friend, and Stannis knew all too well how different two brothers could be when one looked beyond appearances. 

"I apologize," he said curtly. "I didn't know your face."

Stark shook his head. "How could you have? I only guessed at who you could have been because I knew you would be arriving today." 

Stannis nodded. That made sense.

"I've heard a lot about you," Stark added. "I understand you have been named master of ships. Robert has named me master of laws."

Stannis could not suppress his frown. What good could Robert have possibly said about him? He studied Stark skeptically. "Robert has spoken of you to me often."

Stark smiled. "Then I am pleased to make your acquaintance at last. Please call me Ned."

Stannis nodded. He did not seem to have Robert's manner, though Stannis knew better than to make quick judgments. It seemed unlikely that Robert would choose for a friend a quiet, reserved man. "And where is my brother today?"

Something that looked painful crossed Stark's face. "Still abed, I'm afraid. He has taken my sister's death very hard."

"I was sorry to hear of her death," Stannis said. "I met your brother immediately before he retrieved her. Perhaps if I had gone with him, or sent some men..." 

Stark shook his head. "No. I have wished I was there myself countless times, but Brandon says more men would not have saved her."

Stannis remained in a respectful silence before going on. "Still, I need to see Robert to make my report."

"Very well." Stannis wondered if he was imagining the reluctance in Stark's voice, as they climbed the stairs to the king's bedchamber. 

Ser Barristan Selmy stood outside. "My lords," he said by way of greeting. "I'm afraid the king is indisposed."

Stark stepped back hesitantly, but Stannis knew what it meant when his brother was indisposed. He pushed past the old knight and opened the door. 

Robert sat bolt upright in bed at the intrusion; the girl beside him squeaked and tried to cover herself with the sheet.

"What are you—Stannis?"

Stannis crossed his arms over his chest. "I trust you're feeling better now than you were when you told Ser Barristan you were ill."

Beside him, Stark grimaced. Stannis felt his lip curl in distaste. He had to have known, probably enjoyed the serving girls as much as Robert did. 

"Stannis, good of you to join us." Robert beamed as though he were truly happy to see him. "Sit, have some wine." He reached for the jug on his bedside table, and finding it empty, looked meaningfully at his bedmate, who took the opportunity to steal out, clothes in her arms. Stannis hoped for her sake that she would forget to bring the wine. He did not sit, nor did Stark. 

"How is Dragonstone?" Robert's smile was sly and it made Stannis wary of the trap. He glanced again at Stark, but he looked grim. 

Stannis sighed. Robert knew full well from his messages what state he had left the castle in, but he would have to repeat it. "Under our control. I left a garrison of a thousand men, and every Targaryen man has either personally surrendered to me or taken the black."

"And the children?" Robert asked the question almost lazily, and Stannis had to fight to control his rage. _Robert is the king_ , he reminded himself. _As little as it suits him, that is what he is._

"Escaped in a storm, Your Grace," he said, grinding out the words. "It was Ser Willem Darry who spirited them away before their garrison could surrender them to me."

"I thought you were some kind of sailor, Stannis."

Stannis' teeth crashed together. "I built you a fleet, I captured you a castle..."

"True," Robert said. "You did indeed do that. I should reward you for it."

Stannis felt himself relax. This was not what he'd been expecting. "Your Grace, I—"

"Take Dragonstone for yourself." Robert's smile was dangerous, the sort Stannis had always known to be wary of when they were boys. "It is only right that you should sit a seat you won yourself. And I do like the idea of both my brothers being lords in their own rights."

"What are you talking about?" Stannis snarled. "You mean to take Storm's End from me?"

"Certainly you would not begrudge Renly it." 

"You—" Stannis did not know what he meant to say, but Robert cut him off before he had to decide.

"I am the king, Stannis." Even though he was naked under the sheet, he had the commanding presence that Stannis supposed was what had allowed him to rally men to him. "Remember that."

Stannis shut his mouth. He could not object to it. Robert was right. He _was_ the king, and there was nothing Stannis could do about it. He bowed. "Of course, Your Grace." He _had_ forgotten it, but he would be sure never to do that again. 

"You must be tired from your journey." Robert settled back on his pillows. "Ned, can you show him his rooms? You know where they were going to put him."

And that was the end of it. Wordlessly, Stannis followed Stark out of Robert's bedchamber. He hoped he would not be compelled to say anything to the man who had witnessed his humiliation. Shame prickled the back of his neck as he followed Stark. He could not imagine carrying out his duties as master of ships, going each day to council meetings and discussing the business of the realm when his first duty to his king had ended in abject failure. 

Perhaps he would simply leave.

**

Ned had to trust Stannis was still behind him, for he didn't dare look to make sure he was following. He said not a word as Ned led him through the twists and turns of the Red Keep's corridors. He considered saying something to make conversation, but he didn't know what to say to Robert's brother, nor indeed what to make of him. 

He could not help himself. He looked over his shoulder. Stannis looked exactly as he'd pictured him, stone-faced, with eyes narrowed. 

_How can two brothers be so unalike?_ he wondered.

He had to speak; the silence was deafening. "I apologize for him; you can see he isn't himself."

Stannis grunted, a short, cut-off sound. "You said it was grief for your sister. I see he is honoring her memory well." 

Ned's mouth was dry; the iron band around his chest was back, just as it had been the day Brandon had ridden into the Red Keep with her body. In near an instant, his ire toward Robert had dissipated and all that had remained had been their shared grief. He and Robert had been coasting on that ever since Brandon had departed for Winterfell with his bastard babe and their sister's bones. He would not abandon his friend now, even if they didn't mourn the same way.

"He loved her," he said. "He wept in my arms like a child when we heard the news."

"Perhaps," Stannis said. "But does he mean to rule from his bed?"

"You know him as well as I do, if not better. Surely you know how effective he is when it counts." 

"Perhaps," Stannis allowed. "You are probably the one who knows him better. He was hardly ever at home. At Storm's End." He spat the name of the castle bitterly and Ned was violently reminded of the uncomfortable exchange he had just witnessed.

"Dragonstone is a prestigious holding," Ned said, trying to be diplomatic. He could not get a sense of Stannis; he could not read him as he could Robert. "A seat fit for a king's heir."

He knew instantly that it had been the wrong thing to say. Anger flashed in Stannis' dark blue eyes. "Do you know what that was?" he growled.

"I know that you were allowed to keep the castle you conquered in the king's name."

"Allowed," Stannis spat. "It was a punishment for my failure to capture those children."

Ned remembered the broken bodies of Rhaenys and Aegon Targaryen. "It is fortunate that you did fail then," he murmured. 

He did not see Stannis stop but rather sensed it. "In what way is it fortunate?"

Ned pushed open the door leading to the corridor in which Stannis' rooms lay. He could not chase the images of the dead children from his mind. He could not get a sense of Stannis, aye, but he did not think he could possibly be as brutal as Tywin Lannister. "That you do not have their blood on your hands."

Stannis snorted. "I would have done what was required of me."

"You would have killed children?"

"If that was what my brother asked."

Ned stared at Stannis. _He truly is iron_ , he thought. _Cold, unyielding, and not Robert at all._ "The princess is a newborn babe. The prince is of an age with your brother."

Stannis gave a short bark of mirthless laughter. "And do you truly believe they would not have killed Renly had they breached the walls of Storm's End?" 

"What others might do is no excuse to stoop to their level." 

Stannis stopped short in front of the door to his quarters. "What others might do is not my concern. My only concern is my duty." He wrenched the door open without another word, leaving Ned standing alone in the corridor to take the measure of Stannis Baratheon.

**

He could not get the man out of his mind all throughout the afternoon and into the evening. At supper, he kept looking at him as he ate, waiting for some spontaneous revelation that would make him understand the man, his best friend's brother.

Stannis was seated at the end of the high table, alone with a common-looking man Ned had never seen before. Stannis ate methodically, slowly, and Ned was unaware that his staring might be noticed until Jon Arryn spoke to him.

"Have you met Lord Stannis, then?"

"We spoke earlier," Ned admitted. "I don't think we got off to a good start."

"He is very unlike his brother," Jon acknowledged. "But he showed valiance during the siege. A lesser man might not have held his men together until it could be lifted."

Ned sipped his wine thoughtfully, trying to imagine being trapped in his own castle with nothing to eat, watching Benjen starve. But that was not all he had heard about that man. Ned wasn't one to indulge rumors, but one could not escape them, especially where Lord Stannis was concerned. "I heard he had the fingertips of the smuggler who brought them food cut off."

Jon nodded to the man sitting next to Stannis. "That is him, you know. Stannis gave him a knighthood, and yet he still thought years of smuggling rated punishment. But you are wrong that he _had_ them cut off. It was done by Stannis' own hand, to which the smuggler agreed."

Ned took another look at the end of the table, where Stannis and the former smuggler sat. He could not help but respect a man who took justice by his own hand. He thought of Robert, who had retained the Mad King's headsman, over Ned's protests. And the fact that the man was still at his side was to his credit as well. He had brought him to the capital, rather than sending him away.

Jon's talk drifted to other things, but Ned found himself continuing to watch Stannis until he and his man retired for the night. 

_He cannot be a cruel man_ , Ned decided. _A cruel man might not have stopped with the fingertips._

**

Stannis woke the next morning with a pounding headache and the sense that he hadn't truly slept much at all. He dressed slowly, examining the previous day from all angles, everything from what Robert had done to him to the words he'd exchanged with Ned Stark. He would not go to the great hall for breakfast, he decided. He would call for a tray. And he would not eat alone.

He went into the room beside his own where he'd stationed Ser Davos in the hope of getting his counsel. "Break your fast with me," he said, hoping the request would not be unwelcome. 

"Of course." Davos smiled, and Stannis felt relieved that there was at least someone who might enjoy his company.

When their food came, Stannis told Davos what had occurred between himself and Stark the day before. 

"Tell me," he said. "You have a good sense of men. Was I too harsh with him?"

He could see Davos' hesitation, which he masked in buttering his bread. "I think it is unfair of him to judge a man for a decision he has not had to make himself."

"It was not a decision I had to make either." Of this he was far too aware. He couldn't say for sure what he would have done if the children had not escaped, but at least it would have been a decision he would have had to make.

"Yes, my lord, but the king ordered you only to take the castle, not to kill the children. You did that duty. Had you captured them, you would have brought them to the king."

"And he surely would have ordered them killed."

"Which is his decision, my lord, not yours or Lord Eddard's." Davos again prolonged the silence by very carefully forking off a piece of fish. "You would not presume the king would have liked dead children presented to him."

Stannis rubbed his forehead. "But he did, or so I have heard. He was happy enough with Lord Tywin's work."

"I still do not think you would have done it, my lord. You are not a cruel man."

 _Yes_ , thought Stannis, _but I am a man without the lands that should by rights be his, and I am not sure what I would do to get them back._

**

Ned went from his quarters to breakfast to the small council chamber without encountering either Baratheon brother. He began to wonder if they were so unalike after all. _Perhaps Stannis likes his lie-ins as much as Robert does_ , he wondered.

It was while he was thinking this that Stannis entered. 

"Good morning," Ned said, deciding to extend a hand.

"Good morning." Stannis looked questioningly at the table, before Ned pointed to his seat.

"Master of ships," he said. "Beside master of coin." He took his own seat next to Jon Arryn's chair, and for a moment, the room was filled with the awkward tension of two men alone in a room not speaking to one another. Jon Arryn's arrival saved them. He was soon followed by Ser Barristan and Grand Maester Pycelle. Silveraxe Fell was the next to arrive, looking bleary-eyed, making Ned wonder how long they would have his services as master of coin.

The king's seat was as yet unoccupied, which did not escape Stannis' notice either. 

"Not coming," Fell said, and Ned was forced to wonder whether they had been together. "Said we should start without him."

Ned noticed Stannis clench his fists once and release them with a steadying breath. He glanced again at his face; he appeared to be grinding his teeth. 

The meeting went on much like all the others without Robert had. Jon ran it admirably, but Ned could see the pain in his eyes, and he felt a flare of resentment at Robert for worrying their foster father so. He hardly thought of anything else during the meeting and was aware of Stannis' disapproving look. As soon as it was over, he went in search of Robert.

Perhaps he ought to count himself lucky not to have found him with another serving girl. He was in the hall, with the men, watching a game of dice, goblet in hand.

"Your Grace, I must speak with you." Ned included the honorific as a reminder, in case Robert had forgotten he was meant to be king. 

Robert looked at him, annoyed. "Can it wait, Ned? I have money riding on this."

For a wild moment, Ned saw Robert as Stannis must have seen him. He hadn't changed since the long winter nights at the Eyrie when they had indulged in wine and gaming. But this was not a winter night, and Robert was a king. 

He shook his head. "It's important."

The dice clattered across the table and Robert swore, tossing down a handful of coins in disgust and draining his goblet. "What is it, then?"

"Can we go someplace more private, Your Grace?" 

Robert grunted his assent and Ned led him out of the hall and into the garden, at last settling on the most private place immediately apparent, just inside the hedge maze. Robert looked at him expectantly. Ned tried to look back at him and see his best friend. He was there, under the few days' growth of beard, he knew. Lyanna's death had hit them both hard and if he knew anything by now, he knew that he and Robert often responded quite differently to things. It didn't make him love him any less.

"I thought you might like to know how this morning's meeting went," he said, trying to be gentle.

"I wouldn't have named you or Jon to my council if I didn't trust you to rule on matters of state in my absence." 

"But you didn't have to be absent," Ned said gently. "Could not the game have waited?" He had never before minded Robert's enjoyment of diversions; it was just his way, and not all men could be as serious as Jon or Stannis. But he had been hoping kingship would change him. It seemed that had been in vain.

Robert forked a hand through his hair. "I will be soon. I'm going hunting for a few days." 

"You went hunting a few weeks ago." It took an effort to keep his voice even. If he let his ill temper get the best of him, Robert would only respond with his own.

Robert threw out his arms in exasperation. "What is the bloody point of having a wood of my own if I don't hunt in it? Am I just supposed to stay shut up in my castle and let my land be overrun by poachers?"

"Your duty isn't supposed to be protecting the Kingswood from poachers. It's supposed to be sitting the throne."

"Oh, the bloody throne," Robert muttered. "You should have taken it, Ned. I didn't want that; I wanted Lyanna."

"So did I," Ned said, trying to keep the annoyance from showing in his voice. "She was my _sister_ , Robert."

Robert's blue eyes flashed with anger. "Are we going to play this game, Ned? The game of whose grief is deeper? Of who loved her more?"

Ned could no longer hold his tongue. The memory was too fresh of their earlier fight, before Lyanna had brought them together. _I should have gone north with Brandon_ , he thought. _I should have known I could not last long here without getting angry with him again._ "I should say I miss her more when you seek to replace her so quickly."

He was so utterly unprepared for Robert's fist in his jaw that it took him a moment to figure out what had caused his head to snap back so suddenly. Robert had never struck him before, at least not in any way that hadn't been an accident in their boyhood sparring. 

"Never forget which one of us is the king, Ned," Robert growled, in far colder a voice than Ned had ever heard directed at himself. He pushed past him, and Ned stood, watching him go. 

He did not follow until he could be sure Robert had a sizable head start. As he stepped out of the safety of the hedge, he noticed Stannis lurking beside it.

"How much did you hear?" he demanded, not ready to deal with eavesdropping. 

Stannis at least had the decency to look guilty. "Everything. I was sitting over there when you came through." He pointed to a bench beside the hedge; Ned had not noticed him when he'd brought Robert into the garden. "Did he hit you?" Ned searched Stannis' face and decided the question was asked not out of concern but to determine who had hit whom. 

"Yes." Ned looked at the door through which Robert had disappeared. "He never did that before."

Stannis made a skeptical sort of noise. "Then he truly does prefer you to me."

Ned's eyes flicked to Stannis once more. He was now seeing him as if for the first time. His first impressions had been how unlike Robert he was—the heavy jaw made more severe by his unsmiling face, his short-cropped hair which, Ned noticed, stuck up in the back where he had a tendency to tug on it when annoyed. But the eyes were the same, and once he had seen past the other differences, he realized how alike they really were, far more alike than Ned was to Brandon or Lyanna or Benjen.

"I believe I may have lost him," he said with a sigh. 

"Really?" There was more than a hint of disbelief in Stannis' tone. 

Ned wondered at the wisdom of telling Stannis about his fight with Robert. Would he understand? He surely would understand fighting with Robert, but Ned thought again of the Targaryen children with a sick, cold feeling. 

Stannis was still watching him in that assessing way.

"We had a disagreement," Ned said. He sat on Stannis' bench. "After the taking of the Red Keep."

"You objected to the killing of the children." Stannis lowered himself next to Ned.

"It was beyond brutality, Stannis." It was the first time he'd used his name and Ned detected a stiffening of the shoulders. 

"War is brutal. It was what you agreed to when you rose with Robert." Ned studied his face again, the hollowness that there still was around his eyes, the boniness of his hands. How thin had he been when the siege had been lifted? 

"I did not agree to Gregor Clegane." He paused. "Nor Tywin Lannister."

" _That_ we can agree on," Stannis spat. "Robert is a fool to reward him for turning his cloak at the right moment. He should take his gold, not his daughter and let that be the end of it. He should not have presumed Robert wanted dead children."

"No," Ned said, relaxing slightly. He didn't want to think about how he would have felt if Robert had ordered it. 

"I feel I should apologize," Stannis added. "I was talking with... with Ser Davos, and he suggested just that point. He was right. Sometimes it takes a common man to out-think a lord."

"No," Ned said. "I should apologize. I judged you too quickly. You are not Lord Tywin. You might have captured them, but you would not have killed them."

"You presume much about me, my lord."

Ned smiled. "Your brother is my dearest friend. I cannot imagine any brother of his being a cruel man."

At this, Stannis' jaw tightened. "And Robert himself?"

Ned sighed. This was what made him feel most defeated. He looked at the ground, eyes focused on an ant making its way between his boots. "He is grieving deeply. I cannot fault him that."

"And yet she was your sister and you manage to function like a man grown." 

At that, Ned buried his face in his hands. He did not want to let himself go in front of a man he barely knew, but there was no one else, save Jon, who knew Robert like he did, and this did not seem like the sort of thing he wanted to share with Jon, who had looked so sad earlier. 

"Surely you didn't think he would be a different sort of king?" 

Ned looked up. "I had hoped he would change." 

"I knew he would leave the running of the realm to others as he left the running of Storm's End to me all those years." There was a tightness in his jaw as he spoke of the home he had lost. "I considered not accepting the council position. Even now, I wonder if I ought not go back to Dragonstone." He spat the name of the castle as though it were the foulest curse. _To him, it is._

"I would hope you stay," Ned said. "The realm needs good men, and if it must fall to me and Jon, then I would have you as well."

Stannis looked amused. "Have you given up on Robert?" 

"No." He stood. "But I will need help in that quarter, too. Do I have it?"

Stannis stood slowly, unfolding his long form from the low bench. "For now," he said. "I do not relish going back to Dragonstone. I might be better served remaining here."

Ned held out his hand and they shook, briefly but firmly. Ned could see the determination in Stannis' blue eyes. _There it is_ , he thought with some satisfaction. Now that he had found some of Robert's fire in his brother, perhaps he could be of some help in reigniting it in the man himself. 

**

There was something to be said for ambition and hope, but Stannis always braced for the worst. Life was easier that way. Thus, he was not surprised in the least when Ser Jaime told them that Robert had ridden out into the city.

"A whorehouse," Stannis muttered, and Ned reluctantly nodded. 

They had a somewhat subdued supper together in Ned's quarters in the hopes of not missing Robert, but he did not return until they had both retired. Stannis did not sleep, and when he saw him, at breakfast, it was obvious that neither had Ned. 

"Good morning," he said, as Ned took the seat beside him at the high table. 

"Good morning." Ned eased himself into a chair. "Have you heard from him yet?"

"No." Stannis dragged a crust of bread through the bacon grease on his plate. "He had a late night, I suppose."

Ned said nothing, and they ate in silence. 

"What is your plan?" Stannis asked. He could not abide purposeless moping. 

Ned sighed. "I suppose we must sit him down—together—and explain our concerns." 

Stannis nodded, though he was not sure how successful Ned's plan was likely to be. Regardless, he would come up with another when that didn't work.

**

After breakfast, they went to the royal apartments. Ser Barristan was posted outside, looking vaguely guilty. 

"My lords, I am afraid the king is not in."

"Then where is he?" Stannis asked, just able to hold his voice back from being a snarl. 

"He left early this morning in a small party with Lord Fell and some of their other friends. They said they'll be hunting in the Kingswood for a week."

Stannis turned to go, seeming to have accepted this. _Does he really underestimate Robert so?_ Ned wondered. He followed, lost in thought. 

"Well," Stannis said. "Do you mean to ride after him, or shall we prepare for his return?"

Ned did not admit that riding after Robert had been his first thought. He could see it was foolish now. That would only give him more opportunity to distract them from their objective, and he had likely already started drinking. 

"Let him go," Ned said, with much more conviction than he really felt. "We'll be waiting for his return."

Stannis nodded. "Lest he think spending a week away from the city will take the teeth out of us."

Ned paused to study Stannis again. That had been Robert's logic, hadn't it? He didn't know how to feel about that, that Stannis knew all of Robert's shortcomings so intimately. At any other time, Ned would have wanted to go hunting, too. Had he changed, or had Robert?

He decided he didn't care. They were no longer boys; what mattered was the realm, and if he had to put it before Robert, he would. 

"You're right," he said to Stannis. "This gives us a week to plan our attack."

Stannis gave him an impressed half-smile and Ned pushed down the feeling that he was pleased to have received it.

**

"Master of ships," Stannis spat, dropping his quill, "makes me all but useless."

Ned smiled at him. It was the pleasant sort of smile Stannis had learned to expect from him, and in the few days they'd spent together, he'd learned to like it, in spite of himself.

_Perhaps this is Robert's just deserts, if Stark should become my friend._

"I think you do far more work than your title requires," Ned said. "It matters naught to me what you are master of. You should be master of laws, not me."

"No, no." Stannis waved his hand dismissively. "He would never have that. He gives the valuable positions to favored friends—though I do not begrudge Lord Arryn as Hand; that is a good role for him."

"But you are his own brother."

Stannis leaned back in his chair and frowned. "I think he wishes it were otherwise."

Ned laid his quill down, their work momentarily forgotten. "Surely that's not true."

Stannis shrugged. "We never got along as children. I was never the sort of companion he wanted."

"You seem to me to make a fine companion."

Stannis could not help rolling his eyes. "He wanted a brother who could roughhouse with him. I was never one for sport. I preferred my lessons, my hawks. I am no hunter, no tourney knight." 

"I think," Ned went on, "he must value your intelligence, even if he has never said so. Elsewise, he would not have given you a council position, nor left you to command the garrison at Storm's End."

Stannis remembered his pride at that moment, the pleasure at being chosen over any of Robert's hunting and drinking companions. It had gotten him through the siege, to know that he was doing his duty as best he could, the promise of a reward which had never come. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

"You saw," was all he could say. 

"I did," Ned said gravely. 

Stannis shifted uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly ashamed that his and Robert's disagreement had been put on display for a stranger. 

"I'm sorry," Ned went on. "At first I thought it was a reward—to be allowed to keep the castle you captured. I thought he might keep it for his son, as the Targaryens did. I thought it an honor that both his brothers should be lords."

"Then why not give Dragonstone to Renly? It is the lesser holding."

"I know." Ned crossed his arms on the table, gray eyes studying him. "I have no lands myself. You and I are both younger sons. I cannot say I would not be disappointed if I thought I might have a chance at Winterfell only to lose it."

Stannis' hand was in his hair, and he had difficulty meeting Ned's gaze. "And do you still think it a reward?"

"No."

The one word, the simple agreement, lifted a greater weight from Stannis' shoulders than it had any right to. In one matter, perhaps this one matter only, Ned Stark had taken Stannis' side over Robert's.

Stannis' jealousy had always been paradoxical—he had resented the ease with which Robert had won men's respect and friendship, but he had never wanted it for himself. Other men were too exhausting, too foolish. There were those whose company he did value—Maester Cressen, Ser Davos—and now he felt as though he might add Ned Stark to the list.

"Thank you," he said. He wasn't sure what else to say; he was conscious that in winning Ned as a friend, Ned was losing Robert. It was a dubious honor, and he did not take too much pleasure in it, knowing how much Robert meant to Ned, even if it wasn't a love Stannis could understand. 

Ned smiled in that disarming way of his. Stannis misliked the way it made him feel, almost as if the simple smile directed at him left him exposed, vulnerable. 

"Should we take a break?" Ned stood and stretched. "I must confess the laws are making my eyes ache. Or perhaps that is only my esteemed predecessor's handwriting."

Stannis glanced out the window. "We have been at it long. We seem to have missed lunch."

"Hungry?" At Stannis' nod, Ned left to seek out a passing servant. Some time later, a tray arrived and they moved the books and parchments out of the way to eat at the table.

"What should be our next step?" Ned asked. "Now that we are nearly through with the laws." They had been reviewing what laws were already in effect and marking down those that could be changed. In the years since the Conquest, many laws had been passed that contradicted previous ones, and Ned wanted to review the appropriateness of the recommended punishments. He had decided Stannis might make a good partner in this. He clearly had a good sense of what was fair and just.

"Robert will have to approve all this," Stannis reminded him.

"That is why I am doing this," Ned said, gesturing to the list he was making. "We will confront him with a short list, not a pile of dusty books."

Stannis nodded. This made sense. "After this, I would like to see to reparations."

Ned's fork paused on the way to his mouth. "Reparations?" 

"From those lords who opposed Robert." He paused. "I would see them starved for a time."

Ned's eyebrows rose. "Starved? Stannis, that's—" 

"It is justice," Stannis cut in before Ned could answer with _barbaric_. "You weren't there. You didn't feel the gnawing in your belly, feel the fear that your men might turn on you for a crust of bread." He stopped. He had never talked about it, for there had been no one to tell; anyone he might have shared his experiences with had been there. "I thought my brother might die. He is six and stubborn. Do you know how hard it is to negotiate with a child, to make him eat a bit of bat or rat?" 

"I don't, Stannis, I'm sorry." Once again, the use of his name sent a peculiar feeling coursing through him. It felt strangely intimate, though they had agreed to dispense with useless formalities. "Whatever you might do to the Tyrells will not undo what they did. It might make you feel satisfied for a time, but we must keep their loyalties. They have all bowed to Robert; asking anything more of them might endanger the peace."

Stannis was about to say he didn't care, that if it required a fight to get justice, then he would fight, but Ned's eyes gave him pause. _He is tired of war_ , he remembered. _They were fighting while I was stuck in Storm's End. He won't do anything to risk more and nor should I, justice be damned._

"Taxes, then," he said firmly, spearing a piece of potato. It still felt strange to have proper food, almost as if a small luncheon was too rich for his stomach. "Let us review the tax code and see if we cannot squeeze a few more gold dragons out of the Fat Flower."

Ned smiled. "That sounds better to me."

Stannis tried not to smile back, but his mouth twitched regardless. "And while our master of coin hunts with the king, perhaps we can do his job as well."

**

The week passed more quickly than Ned would have liked. He tried to tell himself that they needed more time to work, but the truth was that he was dreading Robert's return. He was not blind to his capacity for anger, but it had never before been directed at Ned. The memory of being struck was fresh in his mind, and he did not relish a repeat of the incident.

But there was more than enough to do to distract them from the prospect of the king's return. Jon sat the Iron Throne every day in his capacity as Hand and heard supplicants, with Ned and Stannis seated nearby. 

Stannis himself met the representative from the Iron Bank of Braavos, the thought being that the Braavosi might greater respect the king's brother and heir, and to this meeting, Ned came too, listening as Stannis promised the Iron Throne's solvency and the legitimacy of his brother's blood claim.

"Our grandmother was a princess," he reminded their visitor curtly, his bearing in that moment quite regal, and for just an instant, Ned caught himself wishing it was Stannis who wore the crown. As quickly as it had come, he dismissed the disloyal thought, but it was true he took a strange comfort in Stannis' steady manner.

For his part, Stannis did not seem at all rattled by their predicament, appearing to take Robert's lapse of duty in stride. Ned was glad to have him at his side when Robert's party rode into the Red Keep.

"Welcome back, Your Grace." He bowed low, trying on the mask of deference. Beside him, Stannis remained ramrod straight, hands behind his back. 

"You should've seen the size of those stags, Ned," Robert said delightedly, as though their last contact had not ended with Robert's fist in Ned's jaw. "They don't make them like that in the Eyrie. We'll have smoked venison tonight; I've already sent word to the kitchens."

Ned did love smoked venison. He wondered if this was a peace offering or a distraction. 

Stannis cleared his throat.

"And I told them to make some sausage for you, brother." Robert looked pleased with himself. "I know how you like a good sausage." 

"Thank you," Stannis said courteously. He said nothing more; they had agreed that Ned would take the lead. Robert was unlikely to respond well to criticism from Stannis. 

Ned held their notes, covered in Stannis' neat, sharp hand. 

A light rain began to fall. "Come," Robert said, striding for Maegor's Holdfast. "Let's get inside and in front of a fire before this gets worse."

Ned waited until they were comfortable before beginning. He made small talk with Robert, asking the right questions about his hunting trip, listening to his adventures, knowing how to put him at ease.

"And what about you?" Robert asked at last, leaning back in his chair and bringing his goblet to his lips. 

Ned started with a brief outline of the council meetings they'd held, with the explanation that Jon would have more for him in that regard.

"What's that?" Robert asked suddenly, his attention at last drawn to the sheaf of parchment in Ned's hands.

Ned looked down at it as though he had forgotten what it was. "We prepared a list."

"A list?"

"A few suggestions. Stannis wanted to find a way to extract reparations from the Reachlords, so we found some things in the tax code." He leaned over and handed it to Robert. "If it would please Your Grace."

Robert took the list and scanned it. For a long time, there was no sound but the rain, now heavier, pounding on the windows. "You and Stannis, you say. Not the entire council? What did Jon say?"

"He said it was a good idea," Ned said urgently. "He hoped you would be pleased with the help." 

"You and my brother, behind my back?" Robert was still looking down at the pages covered in Stannis' handwriting, handed to him by Ned, as though it were a betrayal of the highest order.

"We were working on your behalf, Your Grace."

Robert paged through their notes, which now looked excessive to Ned; what he had once thought a manageable summary of their work now seemed to be as much as ten or twelve large volumes dumped in Robert's lap. "You didn't have to do this."

Ned felt himself bristle. "We were trying to _help_ , Robert. At least some of us have the realm first in our minds."

A loud clap of thunder nearly drowned out Robert's words. "I don't need my shortcomings thrown in my face. It is as though you don't trust me to rule without handwritten instructions from Stannis."

Ned bit back the reply that this sounded like a good idea. "We would trust you more if you had acted like you didn't need them. We would trust you more if you didn't go hunting at the first sign of having to do any work."

Robert threw the papers onto the table between them. "Is that what you think of me, Ned? A child who needs guidance?"

"I didn't say that."

"You near as much have. I will not stand here and be berated by the man I thought was my best friend."

"You _are_ my best friend, and that is why I'm trying to help you." 

"For my own good, then, is it?" Robert snorted. Robert stood and began to pace before the fire. "I'm sure Stannis loved that. Now he has someone to listen while he lists all my many failings." 

Ned stood. "It wasn't like that, I assure you."

"Perhaps you might have thought that but I can assure you Stannis did not see it that way. You don't know him like I do."

Ned thought of the man he'd spent the past week with. He was not a sweet and gentle man, but Ned held him in rather a higher esteem than he did Robert at present. "Perhaps it is that _you_ do not know _him_." 

"I don't have to listen to this," Robert muttered. "Whoever said kings have no friends was right. They betray you the first chance they get."

"I'm not betraying you, Robert."

"Look at yourself, Ned! I'm barely back five minutes and you hand me a list of demands. I put you on my council because I thought you would have my back. If that is your idea of help, I don't want it." Robert jabbed his finger in the vague direction of north. "I want you gone. You didn't want to stay anyway. I already have to deal with Stannis; I don't need another brother who thinks I'm dumber than a post."

"I don't—" he began, but he could see the protest was fruitless. Robert was staring into the fire, goblet to his lips. Ned quietly slipped out and had barely made it down the corridor before he heard the telltale crash of a goblet flung at the wall.

**

Stannis had intended to go for a walk in the gardens, or perhaps explore the godswood, but the storm had chased him inside. Now he stood in his quarters, watching the rain lash the windows and the wind shake the tops of the trees. The sea, just barely visible over the tops of the curtain walls, was gray and choppy, the rainclouds low on the horizon. 

There was a knock on the door behind him.

"Enter." He turned, assuming it would be Ser Davos, but it turned out to be Ned. His long hair was plastered to his head, apparently from having dashed across the courtyard in the rain. 

"What happened?" he asked, though at least some of it was obvious. 

Ned looked slightly bewildered. "Robert told me to leave."

"His presence?"

"The city."

Stannis could not help but gape. "He told you that?"

"Aye. He felt I was taking your side. He did not want to be lectured." Ned pushed his wet hair away from his face and Stannis took a towel from his washstand and handed it to him. "Thank you." 

"I'm sorry," Stannis said, the words of sympathy feeling awkward on his tongue. "If I had known he would react that way, I would have gone myself. At least he is used to lectures from me, and he is stuck with me by bonds of blood. He can't drive me away so easily."

"No." There was a deep sadness in Ned's gray eyes, and the fact that Robert had put it there made Stannis feel far more anger to his brother than he ever had before. "Now I have shown him I am just as serious as you, that I will no longer allow him free rein to do as he pleases." He smiled ruefully. "Though I am not sure how meaningful that is if I must go back north." He crossed to join Stannis at the window.

 _If he leaves_ , thought Stannis, _it will be just me to oppose him, me and Jon Arryn whom I hardly know._ He hardly knew Ned either, he had to remind himself, but that did not seem to matter now, not after this past week. He felt an ache in his chest at the prospect of losing Ned that he could not make go away just by force of will.

"I shall miss you," he said. "I do not know how the work will go without you." Another fear gripped him, that of Robert allowed to do as he pleased with no checks save Stannis, the one he had been used to ignoring all his life. 

"And I you," Ned said. Stannis was trying to figure out why _Ned_ might miss _him_ , when he would be returning home to Winterfell and wouldn't need Stannis at all, when he noticed Ned's hand on his shoulder. He looked at it for a long moment before dragging his eyes up to meet Ned's gaze. 

He cleared his throat. "I appreciated your company," he said. "Your friendship." In the back of his mind, there was the glimmer of an idea that there might be more to it than that, an idea that he might have thought was reflected in Ned's eyes if he was a man given to too much hope.

"As did I," Ned said. His gaze was intense and Stannis fought the urge to shake the hand off. It was too close to his neck, making the hairs on the back of it stand on end. "I just feel sorry that I did not know you earlier. We might have been great friends, if I had met you instead of Robert."

"You might not have liked me, if you were not growing tired of Robert."

Ned smiled. "Perhaps. We can never know." His hand tightened on Stannis' shoulder. "But you can be assured of it now, Stannis. I hope we are friends." 

"We are," Stannis said firmly. _Though you are touching me rather longer than friends are meant to._

Ned was still staring at him, as though gathering his courage. Stannis held his gaze, for if that was what he was doing, he wanted to urge Ned on. _A funny sort of friendship_ , he thought, as his tongue moistening his dry lips. 

Ned's head tilted up, putting his lips in tantalizing proximity to Stannis'. _He is waiting for me_ , Stannis realized. _He will not be the one to take the chance and be refused._

Stannis was not accustomed to taking chances either, nor reading men especially in situations like this. But he was reasonably sure what Ned was telling him without words, and so he responded in kind.

Stannis' abrupt closing of the distance between them seemed to take Ned by surprise and their lips barely brushed together before Stannis had drawn back, feeling foolish, chest tight. They should not have done this. If this was what Ned wanted—not friendship, but something more—then he would miss him all the more. _Robert has ruined every good thing I have ever had_ , he thought. 

They still said nothing, but Ned's hand came up to stroke Stannis' jaw, at last bringing his mouth down for another kiss, one he didn't draw away from. Ned had just begun to urge Stannis' lips apart when there was a knock at the door. They jerked apart, Stannis licking his lips. 

"Enter." He reached up to smooth his hair down where it had been mussed by Ned's fingers.

It was Jon Arryn, also looking damp. "I'm glad you're here, Ned. I thought you might be."

Stannis could not stop his racing heart, though it was clear Arryn suspected nothing. They had been working together; that was the reason Arryn had hoped to find Ned in Stannis' rooms. 

Ned opened his mouth to tell of his ordered exile, but Arryn shook his head. "I have been to see Robert and I at least managed to convince him to keep you on the council. There is no need for you to leave us just yet, unless you would like to go home."

There was a slump of relief in Ned's shoulders, which could be taken for hope that his friendship with Robert could be saved. "Thank you," he said, but his eyes were fixed to Stannis', sending a rush of heat to his face that he hoped Lord Arryn would not notice. 

Arryn smiled sadly. "We will work on this." He reached out to squeeze Ned's shoulder. "I know how much he means to you, Ned. Deep down I know he knows you mean well."

Ned nodded, but Stannis detected a tightness in his shoulders, and when Arryn had gone, he turned back to Stannis. 

"Well," he said softly, "it seems I am to remain." 

"Good," Stannis said firmly. This time, he hesitated just a moment before pulling Ned into another kiss.

**

The next morning, Ned woke, trying to determine what had been dream and what had been reality. His falling-out with Robert had been all too real, but so had Stannis' kisses. He lay there for a moment, wallowing in the contentment. He was not happy to have lost Robert's friendship, but his deeper relationship with Stannis was a comfort, at least. Heat settled in his belly as he remembered the long evening they had spent talking and exchanging kisses.

It was the prospect of seeing Stannis that got him out of bed to face the day. He was happy to see him at the high table, and he settled beside him for a quiet breakfast. 

"Do you think he will change his mind when I walk into the council chamber?" he asked. 

Stannis took a thoughtful sip of water. "Not after giving his word to Lord Arryn. That is one man he does respect."

Ned knew it was the truth, but he could not help his nervousness when they filed into the chamber. Robert was there already, looking resentful, but at least Ned knew resentment and anger could fuel Robert to great things.

He only wished it did not have to be at his expense. 

Indeed, Stannis was his one bright spot. The idea that Stannis might be anyone's bright spot was half absurd. Being kissed frequently did not make Stannis smile more, although he did have rare ones for Ned. None of this was quite enough to salve the pain of having lost his best friend, but it helped him be content with his decision to stay in the city.

Jon was trying to be diplomatic, although Ned could see the toll it was taking on him as well. 

"It will get better," he assured them over supper in Ned's quarters. "When he's wed, when he has an heir, he will take the office seriously." He paused. "And then he will be grateful he has the two of you."

Ned hoped that was true. 

"He is too optimistic," Stannis said, once the dishes had been cleared away and Jon had retired. They had not been to bed together yet, had not even discussed it, but they spent their evenings together until they went their separate ways. Stannis liked a cup of nettle tea before retiring and Ned had made it his custom, too. "A wife won't change him."

Ned didn't reply. He was thinking about Lyanna, wondering if Robert would still have bedded serving girls or gone to whorehouses had she lived to be his queen. 

"My lord father would not have stood for it," Stannis said. 

"What was he like?" Ned was suddenly curious. Robert had told him little about his parents.

This got a smile from Stannis. "Fair. He never favored Robert. He taught me everything he knew about lordship, even though I was the second son." He paused. "There were some things Robert never took to. He taught me sailing, how to manage a castle's affairs. I was never fostered, but I never resented him for it. I think he knew it would not suit me." He set his empty cup down on the table between them. 

"I don't know what I would do without Jon," Ned said honestly. "I needed him after they killed my father." Stannis' eyes were cast down in silent sympathy. There was no way to tell what was worse, seeing your father's ship dashed on the rocks before your very eyes, or hearing how he had been burned to death by a mad king. 

Stannis nodded. "For me it was our maester." 

Ned settled back in his chair and sipped his tea, listening to Stannis as he described the castle, the old maester who was like a father to him, the little brother he was obviously still fond of despite his having been elevated to lordship. It was the most he had ever heard him say in one stretch about his own life, and he enjoyed hearing about his life at Storm's End, a world without Robert that Stannis had been master of, even if only temporarily. 

"You will have to visit someday," Stannis said. Then he paused, the pain coming over his face again. "If Renly should allow it."

"I am sure he will," Ned said with a smile. "He would not begrudge his elder brother a visit home."

"No," Stannis said, returning the smile. "I am sure he would not."

**

The days wore on. Part of Jon Arryn's prophecy had been right, as Robert began attending council meetings and appearing to make an effort. However, he was still strained with Ned, something Stannis tried not to take undue satisfaction in. It was petty, he knew, but it was nice to know that he had won a great prize from Robert.

Not that he would ever breathe a word of it to Ned. He would have been happy to have him even if they hadn't feuded. 

Ned, of course, had taken the rejection hard, but he seemed to take comfort in Stannis. 

It was this satisfaction, perhaps, that had been their undoing. Stannis, who might have been the agent of their discretion, recognized his own complacency. Having Ned nearby lulled him into a sense of security which he had not been accustomed to. He'd become too accustomed to the kisses and conversation. In the end, it wasn't either of their faults, but Stannis thought he ought to have known better.

It was a sunny afternoon and they had been walking on the grounds before Ned led them into the godswood.

"I haven't been in here enough," he said, as Stannis followed him into the dark shade of the trees. "I confess I miss the weirwood trees of Winterfell. These are not the same." 

Stannis, who had always been fond of the weirwood at Storm's End, nodded. "Are the old gods still here, then?" 

"Oh, yes." Ned crouched before the heart tree and Stannis hung back, watching him. It did not feel as though they were in the Red Keep, in the capital. It felt as though they were far in the North. It was even a bit colder, and Stannis felt a chill come upon him.

"Are you cold?" Ned asked.

"No," Stannis said, feeling like a fool.

"Come." Ned beckoned to him and Stannis crossed the clearing. Ned had sat at the base of the heart tree, and Stannis sat beside him. A moment later, he knew not how, his head was in Ned's lap and Ned wore a satisfied smile. 

"I always came into the godswood at home to think," Ned said, absently stroking Stannis' hair. "I should have known the gods would be there for me even here."

Stannis' mind began to wander at talk of gods. He instead studied the sky, from this angle strangely split by the high branches of the trees. "I think if I were to have any gods, I might choose the old gods," he said at last. "I always thought it queer to make gods into men. I could never believe those wooden statues in the sept had any power. It seems more natural that the gods should be here, in places not made by men, in things men can never truly know. In the sept, your faith is on display for a hundred others. Here, it is between you and your gods." 

Ned smiled at him. "I never would have expected such depth of religion from you."

Stannis grunted. "It is only how I feel."

Ned seemed to be lost in thought. Stannis hoped he would not try to bring him into the faith of the old gods; his septon had despaired of him for years, and he did not relish the same from his new friend. 

"I will have to bring you home with me sometime," Ned said. "When I go to Winterfell again."

"I would like that." Stannis had traveled little, and never outside the stormlands until he'd taken Dragonstone. The North had always held an interest for him, though, and the prospect of traveling with Ned was a sweet one. Days on the road, nights sharing a bed in some roadside inn... His eyelids began to droop. There was the breeze, the rustling of the trees, Ned bending over to lay his lips on Stannis'... the crack of a foot on a twig.

They jerked apart, Stannis pulling himself back along the dirt to get out of Ned's lap. Robert stood at the mouth of the clearing, his mouth open.

"What were you doing?" he asked. He asked it, Stannis thought, not because he hadn't been sure, but in the hopes that one of them might offer an acceptable explanation as to why they might be kissing so cozily under a tree. 

"Robert," Ned said faintly. He rose shakily, not taking his eyes off Robert. All the color had drained from his face, and if he said anything more, Stannis couldn't hear him over the roaring in his own ears. 

"What were you doing?" Robert repeated.

Neither of them, it seemed, had the words to explain what they'd been doing. 

"I knew you'd become friends with him," Robert said, "but _this_ , Ned." His voice shook with disbelief, as though he was just waiting to be convinced otherwise.

"Robert, I—" Ned clearly struggled for words, and Stannis couldn't bear to hear anymore, couldn't bear to hear a rejection while he stood here in front of Robert's gaze. Without waiting to hear anymore, he lurched to his feet and pushed past Robert to leave the godswood as soon as he could. He did not look back to see if he was being followed. 

**

Ned stared at Robert for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity. Somewhere in the godswood, a bird called, jerking Ned from his reverie. With one long, level look at Robert, he, too, strode past him and followed Stannis.

He tried not to worry about what Robert would do, tried to keep his mind only assuring that Stannis was all right. He caught up to him outside his quarters and they remained silent until Stannis had let them in and then barred the door behind them.

"You didn't stay to talk to Robert?" Stannis asked, not looking at him.

"No. I wanted to stay with you."

Stannis at last turned to look at him and Ned wondered how many people had put Stannis' desires above Robert's. _Even if Robert and I should never be friends again_ , he thought, _at least I will have Stannis._

"He is the king. He might be angry."

"I can withstand his anger if I have you."

Stannis looked away, as Ned had assumed he would. "I," he said, "am more concerned about our having been caught by our king in—" He stopped, unable to articulate what they'd been caught by their king in. 

Ned took his hand and was not repulsed. "I do not think he will do anything to us. He is more embarrassed than angry, I think."

Stannis grunted and opened his arms just enough for Ned to step into them. He rested his head on Stannis' shoulder as his strong arms tightened around him. "It is a shock for him, I imagine."

"And what will we do about it?" Stannis murmured into his hair. 

"I think we must wait for his next move." He did not mention fleeing, but he supposed they always could. Stannis was master of ships, and a ship could carry them to Dragonstone or even beyond, if that was not safe. 

Stannis gave him a tight squeeze before stepping back. Instantly, he was composed and businesslike. "You are right. I won't indulge in rashness. Were we to flee, it would look even more as though we had something to hide." He tugged at his hair. "I do hate the waiting. Are we to stay here like men condemned?" 

"I could go, if you like."

"No," said Stannis firmly, giving Ned a clumsy kiss. "I'll call for supper."

Despite their efforts, it was a somber meal, no matter how natural they tried to make it. Any conversation one of them started, about books, or matters of state, or the weather, trailed off into nothingness, as though they had been trying to convince themselves unsuccessfully that they were completely safe. By the time they went to bed, the warmth of the afternoon spent in the godswood had given way to the chill of a winter night. 

The fact that Ned would stay the night went unspoken. He did not want to go back alone to his cold, dark rooms when here there was firelight and Stannis' quiet companionship. They said nothing about it, simply taking their tea and getting into bed together with a good-night kiss.

It seemed that Ned had just closed his eyes when they were awakened by a pounding on the door. Stannis was already sitting up beside him. Both of them knew that insistent knock. 

Stannis kicked the covers off, threw on his robe and left the bedroom without a word. Ned hurried to dress; he emerged from the bedroom to find that Stannis had admitted his brother into his sitting room just far enough so that could close the door behind him. 

Robert's eyes lit up when he saw Ned. "I thought I might find you here. I want to talk to you." He cast an uncomfortable glance at Stannis. "Can I, er, borrow him?"

"Who am I to say? I am not the king." 

"Come in here," Ned said, for some privacy. He regretted it as soon as the door was closed and he and Robert were alone in the room with the bed with its rumpled sheets. Robert looked for some other place to sit before lowering himself onto Stannis' trunk. Ned sat on the bed, uncomfortably aware of Stannis' recent presence in this very spot.

Robert looked down at his hands. "Gods, you must hate me."

"I don't hate you."

"Well, you should." Robert rubbed his face. "I can't blame you for taking up with Stannis."

Ned frowned. "I took up with Stannis because of him, not because of you."

"Oh." Robert looked abashed. "I guess I—nah, I'm not going to say it. You'll just get mad. I'm just going to say I'm sorry."

An apology was one of the last thing's he'd expected to hear from Robert. "You should apologize to Stannis, too."

"I know, I know." Robert ran a hand through his hair. "But he'll gloat."

"He won't." 

"Softened him up, have you?"

"He doesn't revel in your failures, Robert. He wants you to be a good king." 

"Maybe I ought to go and let him have the throne. I'll go east. Sell my sword, see the world."

"That won't solve anything," Ned said plainly. "Where would you go? Then you would just be miserable across the Narrow Sea instead of miserable here."

Robert sighed. "Why are you always right, Ned? I hate that." He stood. "I think I thought if I was king, I could do whatever I want. But I can't bring her back, and I'm not about to lose you over it. Can you ever forgive me, Ned?"

Ned fought his instinct to say _yes, of course, Robert, you are my foster brother and I will always forgive you_. "Yes," he said at last, "if we work together. We are on your side, Robert, both of us are. We would not have accepted positions on your council if we weren't."

"I know, I know. And I know you weren't going over my head when you did all that work. I know you were trying to help. It just made me mad I hadn't thought of it first."

Ned smiled. "You can't think of everything."

"Aye." Robert at last returned his smile. "You know, I wondered about Stannis, but I thought it was your famous honor that kept you out of the beds of all those girls you left for me." The teasing light was back in his eyes. "Never imagined you were saving yourself for my brother, of all people." 

"We had been working together," Ned said. He couldn't truly explain it either, though he could feel his smile grow when he talked about Stannis. "And after a fashion..."

"I can see." Robert's smile was genial; even if he didn't understand their relationship, there was no hostility. "Just… Ned?"

"Yes?"

"I don't want to hear anything else." 

Despite himself, Ned laughed. It felt almost like old times. "I promise you it stops there. I imagine Stannis wouldn't want me saying more."

Robert sighed. "I guess we'd better talk to him, then." He said this as though he was saying, _I guess we'd better get mauled by lions._

Ned gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile and pulled open the door.

**

It seemed like forever until they finally emerged from the bedchamber. Stannis had been pacing, feeling half a fool in his robe while Ned and Robert were fully dressed. 

"Yes?" he said impatiently. They stood before him like they had something to present. Hopefully it would not be an order of exile.

"For the love of the gods, Stannis, I would have thought even _you_ 'd be less tense if you were bedded regularly." Behind him, Ned looked as though he wanted nothing more than sink into the floor, and Stannis felt his own face grow hot at the thought that they had not yet attempted it.

"Not all of us are so malleable as you," he said icily. 

"True." By Robert's smile, he could tell that baiting him had been the goal. "I owe you an apology," he said so suddenly that Stannis thought it was the start of another joke. "I know we haven't always gotten along, but I'm asking for your help now. You've every right to refuse me, but I beseech you, brother. I've gotten myself in this mess and I need your help to get out of it." Robert's mouth was twisted into a crooked sort of smile, and Stannis was still staring at him, unsure whether or not he was dreaming. Perhaps the next time he blinked, he would wake up beside Ned. 

He glanced at Ned, who nodded slightly. 

"If you're willing to take your office seriously," Stannis said.

Ordinarily, this would have elicited defensiveness from Robert, but he simply nodded, looking far more serious than Stannis had ever seen him. _Perhaps a bit of Ned is rubbing off on him_ , he thought, _though he cannot leave all japes behind_.

"Tomorrow, then," Stannis said firmly. He did not know what hour it was, but it was fully dark and he knew they had not been long abed because he could remember being only on the edge of sleep when Robert's knock had woken him.

"Tomorrow," Robert agreed. "I'll, er, let you get back to sleep." He gave Stannis and Ned a wary look before departing. 

"Well, what do you make of that?" Stannis said as soon as the door was shut. 

"I think he means it," Ned said. 

"I envy you your confidence."

Ned came up and put an arm around Stannis' shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know he has not always been good to you, but I have faith in him."

Despite himself, Stannis leaned into the touch. 

"But I won't sit idle," Ned continued, lips by Stannis' ear. "If he slips, I shan't put up with it."

That was enough. Perhaps it was unwise to allow Ned's optimism to rub off on him, but it was infectious. He slipped his hand into Ned's and led him back into the bedroom. At least Robert had said nothing about them. Perhaps he truly was changing.

**

Ned and Stannis were first in the council chamber next morning. Each member filed in, greeting Ned and Stannis politely, as though it were any other day. Ned tried to take a deep breath to calm his nerves. Out of the corner of his eye, Stannis gave him a wan smile.

At last, the door opened to admit Robert. He looked almost sheepish, like a cowed child. Ned smiled at him, as he rose and bowed with the rest of the assemblage. Robert gave him a relieved smile back.

"Right," Robert said, looking at his councilors. Ned could see the nervousness on his face, uncharacteristic for him. "Have you any new business?"

Ned said little during the meeting, spending most of his energy on observation. Robert appeared to be making a genuine effort, though Ned could see it was difficult for him. _It is boring work_ , Ned allowed, as he listened to Stannis at last lay before Robert all the ways in which the Reachlords were avoiding paying their fair share of taxes. But he could appreciate the effort. And, he could tell by Stannis' look of pride when Robert ordered Silveraxe Fell to send letters demanding payment that he, too, was satisfied. 

"A good thought, brother," Robert said, and Ned fought to hide his smile at the way Stannis drew himself up tall in his seat.

"Thank you, Your Grace," he said graciously, and Ned felt a surge of hope that perhaps they could act like brothers again.

**

Robert's efforts contributed to Stannis' good mood which lasted the rest of the week until one day he returned to his quarters to find servants hard at work moving his things.

"The orders of the king, my lord," the nervous-looking man who was packing up his books said. 

Stannis scowled. He would take that up with his brother then. He stalked toward the royal apartments, running into Robert in the corridor below.

"Ah, there you are," he said delightedly. "Did you find your new rooms?"

Stannis stopped short. Perhaps it would be better to hear what Robert had to say, rather than go in on the defensive. "New rooms?"

"Yes." Robert cleared his throat, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I thought you might be, er, happier over here. You know, I'm right upstairs. I need my closest advisers nearby."

Stannis was about to protest that the king would rarely need the master of ships in the middle of the night and that his quarters had had a perfectly pleasant view of the sea, when Robert gestured around the corner. "And, well, you're across from, well. Ned." He nearly blushed as he said Ned's name and Stannis looked at him curiously.

"You've put me next to Ned?"

Robert waved his hand vaguely. "Why not? You're both on the council. You're... friends." Suddenly, he poked Stannis in the ribs. "It's a gesture, Stannis. You might learn to recognize those." 

All Stannis could do was stare at Robert's departing back as the first servants began to appear up the stairs, lugging his trunks. It _had_ been a gesture, hadn't it? He smiled to himself as he headed off to supervise the unpacking of his things. It seemed Robert was still capable of surprising him. 

**

"So, not bad I'd say, for a first week." They were at supper and Robert looked hopefully back and forth between Ned and Stannis, seeming to forget that this was far from his first week as king. 

"I'm very proud of you, Robert," Ned said.

"Indeed," Stannis said, taking a bite of lamprey pie. Then, he added, "You're much improved."

Robert's shoulders appeared to slump in relief. _Could it be that he was seeking_ my _approval and not Ned's?_ "So, you two are really going to stay?"

"Naturally," Stannis said. "We said we would."

"I know." Robert sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I just wanted to make sure. I know I came close to losing—well, to losing both of you—and I don't want to come that close again. I want us to be friends." He paused again. "All of us. Even if you two are going to, er." He cleared his throat. 

"You hoped we would get along, didn't you?" Ned said with a smile. That drew a laugh from Robert, one of his old, full-belly laughs that Stannis had not heard since Robert was last at Storm's End. It was not the sort of thing he had thought he might miss, but hearing it brought on a strange sense of familiarity, a sense that the world was not as strange as he had feared. 

He frowned, looking at Robert and Ned, remembering how he had once been jealous of their friendship. He studied Robert's face, looking for any sign of objection. He was uncomfortable, perhaps, but that was to be expected, wasn't it? 

"I did," Robert agreed at last. He looked like he might say something else, but thought better of it. "Not going to be long now before I'm married." It was a strange leap, but Stannis could see that Robert had been looking for the opportunity to bring it up; it had been weighing on his mind. 

"We won't cause her any trouble," Ned said hurriedly. "We—"

"No, no, not that." Robert sighed. "I just don't feel ready."

"You'll have to be," said Stannis. Then, before Robert could get angry, he added, "Even if you do not feel it, we mustn't let the Lannisters think otherwise."

"True. You're right, Stannis." He paused. "Thank you. It's nice to know I can count on my brother." Then he glanced at Ned. "My brothers." 

Stannis smiled back at him. Perhaps he had been wrong all those years thinking Robert preferred Ned. He glanced at Ned, who also had a smile on his lips. All that time Robert had spent in the Eyrie, Stannis wishing for his own companion, he had never dreamed he might find him in the same man as Robert did. But perhaps Ned had room for both of them.

**

Ned yawned as they shuffled back to Stannis' new quarters. At least he no longer had the worry of sneaking through the halls at night. So long as they drew the bed curtains, no one could know which bed they were occupying. 

"Straight to bed?" Stannis asked him. 

Ned thought about the weeks they had spent having tea before retiring separately, which had, in the past few days, become sleeping in the same bed. He smiled at the thought of how casual and natural this had become, how much he looked forward to waking up beside Stannis, how glad he was that they had met and further still, that they were here now, together. _Would I ever have given him a second thought had I not had my disagreements with Robert?_

Stannis blinked at him and he realized he'd been staring. "I am tired," he allowed. "But if you'd like tea, I'll have some as well."

Stannis thought for a moment. "Bed would suit me just as well." 

His tone and the way he caught Ned's gaze sent an unexpected rush of heat through him. He hadn't thought Stannis could be anything but forthright, but there was a sly look in his eyes that made Ned feel wide awake again.

"Then I say we should retire," he said, closing the distance between them. Stannis allowed Ned's arms around his neck and their lips met in a long, slow kiss. Everything was slow and tentative—their move into the bedroom, Stannis' boldness in going for the laces of Ned's doublet. None of it was spoken explicitly; their questing touches were simply met with approval or redirection in as few words as possible. 

_We understand each other_ , Ned thought, the realization breaking over him like the pleasure of Stannis' touch. He could understand what a rare gift Stannis was giving him in letting him inside his most private moments, and he was determined to treasure it. How could he ever have considered quitting the capital and going back north? He knew he would have to visit, of course; a Stark could not stay away from Winterfell forever, but when he did, it would be with Stannis at his side. _And I might see Storm's End as well, and even Dragonstone._

A pleasant future took shape in his mind as he lay next to Stannis who was, for once, the first of them to fall into a peaceful, relaxed sleep. 

_We could be happy_ , Ned thought, studying the way the angles of his face seemed less harsh in sleep. _Helping Robert rule, and left to our own devices otherwise for whatever that may be._

He closed his eyes. It was certainly far from what he'd envisioned when he'd accepted a place on the small council, but now that he had it, he could not dream of wishing for anything more.


End file.
